What does it mean to be alone? For some, it means that you have a nice quiet space all to yourself. For others, it means to be free from distractions, nuisances, or bothersome folk. Some might tell you that being alone is to be without allies or comrades. All of them are correct in a way, but all of them are wrong.
There is no greater sense of loneliness, than what I felt on that day.
It was the summer of 2021. I was still stationed in Kabul with a bunch of other Jarheads fresh out of Camp Pendleton. None of them had ever shot a rifle at a living person before. Most of them were just here to get their GI bill so they can go off to college without student loans. Some were here because their brother or dad or cousin or grandpa was also a Marine. Those guys were the most annoying of all of them. They actually took this shit seriously.
Then there was me.
I remember my first day of basic training. The DI came right up to my face and screamed at me "Why are you here, private Casey?" I didn't really have a good answer like everyone else, so I told him the truth.
"Because I want to get as far away from home as possible, Sir!"
Everyone just kind of looked at me, and I swear I heard that DI chuckle under his breath. However he felt about it, I still ended up doing 20 pushups.
Now I was here, in the middle of a brutal mountain desert hellhole, with nothing better to do but stare at the dirt and walk around like I was some kind of big strong GI Joe super soldier.
At least that's how it was supposed to go, until the Taliban started kicking our ass.
Every single day, we lost more and more territory to those ragheads. What were once fortified military bases were now ghost towns. All of the Americans here were either dead, or providing covering fire so that the important people could flee the country. Once everyone from the Military Industrial Complex was gone, they let all the high ranking officers leave. By then, the city was overrun. The Afghan army had all either deserted, defected, or were killed. Me and my unit were the only ones left to defend the embassy. It was a brutal fight. I saw friends killed right next to me. The worst part was hearing the chopper take off before I could make it to the roof. All I could do was stand there, staring at the sky as my last hope of salvation rode off into the sunset.
There I was, the last American left in Kabul. My whole unit died or evacuated. Surrounded by the enemy, in a land that was not my own, I felt more alone than any man in history.
The Taliban captured me, they beat me, tortured me, pissed on my open wounds. For months I prayed for death. God never listened. He must have had other plans for me. Perhaps this was some sort of divine punishment? One day I heard the Taliban speak in fear. Turns out there was something in this god forsaken wasteland that they were afraid of. I don't speak arabic, but it sounded like some kind of monster. Then, one night, they were attacked. I never heard any gunshots. All I heard was the sound of men screaming for their lives. Slowly but surely, their cries were silenced. I was the only one left. That's when I saw it. The monster they had feared. It was a giant snake! At least 50 feet in length, standing full body taller than me, it had the body of an adult woman at the head of its tail. Complete with arms, breasts, and a head full of hair, it was a terrifying creature. I thought for sure that my life was over, but for some reason, she took pity on me.
I was knocked unconscious, and when I woke up, I was in a beautiful mountain village. There were no people around, but I did see the snake woman again. She was beautiful. With auburn hair, ruby eyes, and a warm smile. She nursed me back to health. I don't know how long I was there, but when I was able to walk on my own, she led me out of the village. That's when I realized that this whole place was full of snake women just like her. Some of them were twice her size! She couldn't speak any English, but she pointed me to the nearest human village. It was then I realized we were actually in Pakistan, and I could contact the US Embassy.
Before I left, I asked her for her name. She didn't tell me, but in broken English, she said "Go be alive".
X
"Wow, um, that's certainly an~unusual~story, sir." The social worker said to me from her big leather chair.
"I'm telling you, it's all true! There was a giant snake woman, and she saved my life!" I did my best to re-enforce my claims.
"But that doesn't explain how you ended up homeless on the streets?"
"Well, you see, funny story about that. When I went to the US Embassy in Pakistan, they told me I was officially declared "Killed in Action". So legally speaking, all of my citizenship documents were no longer valid, so I was no longer a citizen of the United States. That's total bullshit, right?"
"uh-huh. …So what did you do?"
I cocked a grin. "You won't tell any cops?" She nodded no. "I stowed away on a cargo plane. Technically speaking, I'm an illegal immigrant."
The woman took off her glasses and pinched her nose. "Wow, that has got to be the most ridiculous story I have ever heard. However, your drug test came back clean, And while your face does look very similar to deceased US Marine Corporal William Coleman Casey Jr, I find it hard to believe you're really him." This stupid social worker still wont believe me, even after hearing my story.
"Cole Casey. William Casey was my father. Please call me Cole."
She gave me a raised eye brow. "Listen lady, I don't know what else I can do to convince you! Everything I said was the truth."
She shuffled through some more paperwork. "So it seems. Well, Mr. Casey, I'm going to see what I can do for you. In the meantime, I must ask that you please stop loitering outside of First National bank, and stop shouting at everyone about "snake monsters" who are going to enslave the human race."
"Hey, I'm not lying! If you saw what I saw, you would be just as scared of them as me!"
"Mr. Casey, please leave my office before I call security." She stared me down with this smug look. Stupid bitch, I stood up from my chair and stormed out of the office.
"I can't believe I fought for this country. You'd think with how much people simp for veterans, that someone would take me seriously." I yelled to myself as I took my dirty body down the street. As I walked past one of the shops I looked in the window to see the same man staring back at me. He was very skinny, covered in dirty rags, and his face had an overgrown beard. His light skin was coated in dirt, and his brown hair had not been cut for a long time. He held a sad look in his eyes, as if there was no hope for the future.
"Damn Cole, what the hell happened to you?" I said to myself. My stomach interrupted me, but too bad for him, because I didn't have any money to buy food. Oh well, maybe there is something in the dumpster over there that isn't rotten yet.
I sneaked over and started rummaging around for some food. Perhaps I made too much noise, as there was an old asian man who came out to see what was going on.
"Get out of there you bumb!" He yelled. I ran out of there with a half eaten sandwich and a bag of potato chip crumbs. What a score!
The day was getting late, so I decided to ask for change from the big suits walking down the street now that work was over for the day.
"Spare some change?" I did my best to look pathetic. Some asshole smacked my hand away.
"Don't touch me you filthy bumb! Why don't you get a job?" What a jerk! I cut the pathetic act and pointed at him with my long dirty finger.
"Why? So I can be like you and spend my life slaving away behind a desk? You're only one missed paycheck away from being right here next to me. So maybe you should be more considerate." He gave me the most perplexed look and then hurried off. I should probably get out of here, in case he calls the cops on me.
The sun was setting, so I made my way to the park. It was getting dark, and I needed to get to the good sleeping spots before the other hobos took them. After all, it was an unwritten rule among us that stuff like that is first come first serve. Once I found a cozy bench I curled up and drifted off to sleep.
As I stared up at the night sky, my mind kept thinking back to those days in that village with that snake girl. She was so beautiful, and yet so terrifying. I wonder if I'll ever get to see her again.
X
Later that night, I woke up to the sight of a mysterious woman standing over me. She was dressed in a black business suit with a black skirt, black pantyhose, white shirt, black tie, and black sunglasses.
"Mr. Casey, I presume?"
"Go away! Leave me alone."
The woman pulled out a large badge that looked like the FBI. "Mr. Casey, my name is Agent Smith. I'm with the United States Government. I understand that you've been in contact with a lamia, or as you put it, giant snake-monster girls"?
"Yeah, so what? Nobody believes me, so what do you care?" The woman put her badge away.
"Oh no, on the contrary. I believe you 100%, Mr. Casey. In fact, why don't we go somewhere and talk about this."
Maybe it was because I was groggy, or maybe it was because it was late at night, but I gave her the middle finger and went back to sleep.
"Why don't you piss off and leave me alone?" That was the wrong thing to say. This sexy government suit pulled a Sig Sauer 9 millimeter out of her jacket and put it right against my ear.
"I wasn't asking, Mr. Casey. Get your filthy ass off that park bench! You're coming with me."